The War of the Dragons
by biblioraven
Summary: In the months that followed the Mad Queen's razing of King's Landing, tensions grew across the Seven Kingdoms. Those once loyal to her, turned away in disgust and outrage. New loyalties arose, battles waged, a man who never sought power once again took on the mantle of King and Arya Stark returned home to Winterfell.
1. The Dragon Wolf

In the months that followed The Mad _Queen's_ razing of King's Landing, tensions have grown across the Seven Kingdoms. Those once loyal to her, have turned away in disgust and outrage. New loyalties have arisen, battles have waged, a man who never sought power has once again taken on the mantle of King and Arya Stark has returned home to Winterfell.

Arya sat beside Sansa on the top table, of the Great Hall of Winterfell. Seated with them at the table were Bran, Ser Brienne Tarth, Lord Yohn Royce and Maester Wolkan. The six watched, and listened, as the Lords of North and the Vale argued over whether their next move, in the so called War of the Dragons, would be political or military. There was never much consensus. The Northern Lords desired to take up arms immediately, whilst the Lords of the Vale wanted to consolidate their forces and powers and gain more alliances.

"No, Lord Manderly I disagree" Lord Eon Hunter roared across the hall, "If we do not find more allies, any chance that King Aegon has of claiming the Iron Throne is lost."

"And how do you expect us to find those allies Hunter?" Lord Wyman Manderly replied matter of factly. "The Mad Queen still has the full support of the Iron Islands and Dorne. The Riverlands and the Reach are still at odds over who is Lord Paramount. Only the Gods themselves would have any clue what is happening in the Stormlands. And you know farewell that the Westerlands are under siege ."

Arya watched as Ser Brienne nodded along in agreement Lord Manderly. It was true, no one knew what was going on in the Stormlands, they'd closed themselves off from the world. The little they knew came from Brienne's Father, Lord Selwyn Tarth, who had fled Tarth soon after The War of the Dragons had begun. He'd arrived in White Harbor pledging himself and his men to King Aegon, but had also bought with him the news that the Stormlands under Lord Gendry Baratheon had turned against the Queen and that the Kingdom had locked down its borders to outsiders.

Meanwhile, Sansa shook her head, the Lords too distracted too notice when she then stood, only quieting when she raised her voice. "My Lords Manderly and Hunter, thank you, I will take your opinions onboard when I write to my brother," no one questioned her calling King Aegon her brother, because to all of them he would always be the White Wolf not the Dragon Wolf, which he had come to be known as throughout the Seven Kingdoms. "But the Lords of the Vale are right in asking that we build our alliances, before we head off to war."

The Lords of the North and the Vale murmured to each other, whilst Lord Hornwood of the North rose from his seat, "Excuse me My Lady, but that's the very problem, where will the alliances come from? Lord Manderly is right, there are no alliances to be found, every other Kingdom is either against us or fighting among themselves."

"We go to the Stormlands" a voice so calm, it sounded emotionless joined the conversation.

Arya and Sansa's eyes both instinctively moved too their brother, he did not speak often anymore, but both women had found that when he did, they needed to listen to him. He was instinctive and yet to be wrong.

"Bran, did you not hear Lord Manderly or listen to Lord Tarth?" Sansa asked if only to appease the Lords, who might revolt at the suggestion, to go to what was currently considered the most hostile Kingdom in Westeros.

"Yes" Bran answered, his voice deadpan. "You are scared you will be unable to make it into the Kingdom without losing your life. You are not wrong. There is one among us however, who can not only slip into their lands, but also convince Lord Baratheon to join our cause." Bran's eyes floated past Sansa to Arya.

Arya cursed to herself internally, she did not want to go anywhere near Gendry lest she hurt him more than she already had. Lest she hurt _herself_ again, by having to leave him behind once again. Her mind briefly drifted back to when she had turned down his proposal, she remained defiant in her choice, but even so she could not escape the fact that she still loved him. Even now.

Arya's breath caught in her throat before she spoke, "I will go to the Stormlands. I will convince Lord Baratheon to join our cause."

—

Another bitter row had broken out between the Lords gathered at Winterfell, when Arya decided that no matter their objections, she would venture to Storms End by herself. This included objections from Sansa herself (whom Arya thought should have known better) that she at least be accompanied by Ser Brienne and if not her, her Father's men-at-arms, as they were Stormlanders after all.

"No," Arya quipped to Sansa. "Whatever is happening on the borders of the Stormlands, it needs to be snuck past. Ser Brienne, the Tarth men-at-arms, are not the type to just sneak across a border. I will be better off going alone. It will be safer if I go alone."

The look on Sansa face as she listened to her sister, would have caused a weaker person to give in and obey, but Arya would never be that person, especially if it was Sansa telling her what to do. She loved her sister, but she would never take orders from her, she was her own person and made her own decisions. When Bran had said there was only one who could make it past the Stormlands borders, his belief that it was Arya was just a suggestion, her decision to go was her choice alone.

"Sansa, I can take care of myself, I know that you know that."

Sansa sighed, her younger sister was right, as she always had been. Not that Sansa would ever admit that to Arya's face, whatsmore she would never admit to Arya that she now often envied her ability to come and go as freely as she wanted from Winterfell. Yet, Sansa was bound to Jon as his Vassel and in his name, he had named her Lady Paramount of the North and Warden of the North. Furthermore, she was now also Lord Protector of the Vale of Arryn so it was not right for her to leave her seat at Winterfell. If Jon needed her, she needed to be where he could find her. Arya, on the other hand, well needed to go where the Lords of the North and the Vale needed her to go and that was to the Stormlands.

"Arya, go swiftly and go safely" Sansa paused, as Arya went to turn away from her sister.

"Sansa, Winter is Coming" Arya said softly.

Sansa smiled to herself, "Winter is Coming. Don't forget about your pack Arya Stark."

Those words from Sansa were enough to cause Arya to turn back to her sister and do something she hadn't done since she returned to Winterfell after her time in Braavos. She hugged her sister.

The sisters held each other tightly, when Arya did go, they both knew it would be a long time before they spoke again, but that they would. No matter what she had to face, Arya had always been determined to return to her pack.

— — —

Arya went to mount her white steed, whom she had named in Yoren's honor, when she herd footsteps in the fresh hay behind her. Arya turned and came face to face with Ser Brienne and her father Lord Selwyn Tarth. Selwyn was a sturdy man and much taller than his daughter, which was saying something. He had a white beard, and short white hair, which Arya suspected had been as blonde as his daughters hair is, once upon a time. What Arya most admired about Lord Selwyn, was that no matter how harrowing a situation may be, he always wore a smile, a smile that always grew brighter when he spoke of how his daughter was the first Female Knight in the Seven Kingdoms.

"My Lord, Ser Brienne," Arya said, nodding her head curtly. Lord Selwyn nodded in reply, that was the other thing she admired about Lord Tarth, he saw her for who she was, a warrior, it was susprsing however as he had indeed raised one himself.

"Arya," Lord Selwyn began. "I wanted to wish you good fortunes before you left Winterfell and too tell you that I left a garrison of my men upon Tarth, if you call for them, they will come to your aide." Lord Selwyn reached out to hand something to Arya. "This is a Tarthian coin, use it as a wax seal and my Men will know you've called for them, in my name."

"Thank you My Lord," Arya smiled. "I do hope, that I needn't have to call upon them."

Ser Brienne looked to her Father and then to Arya, "We hope you don't have to either, but known that the men of the Evenstar will always come, if called upon in the name of their Lord."

"The good faith of our house, go with you Arya Stark, we hope that one day, because of you wer can return to Evenfall Hall upon Tarth" Lord Selwyn said next.

Arya reached out to shake their hands, but as always Lord Selwyn surprised her as he pulled her into a hug, but it was soon clear that he had done it for a reason. The Lord whispered to her "The Lord of the Stormlands and his people are loyal to the Dragon Wolf"

Lord Selwyn let go of Arya, smiled and wished her luck once again. Making no reference to what he had just said to her.

If Gendry was loyal to Jon, why had no one heard from the Stormlands since the War of the Dragons had begun?


	2. The Storm

As Arya and Yoren crossed into the King's Wood, the winds began to pick up, becoming so gusty that Arya was forced to dismount Yoren and tie him to a tree.

"Go on you can eat," Arya assured Yoren, stroking the horses face gently as she dismounted him. The horse would never desert her, but he had seemed flightly since they had past by King's Landing. In all honesty, Arya didn't blame him, given what they had both seen, the last time that they had been there.

Where Arya and Yoren had been forced to stop due to the winds was on the Northern boundary of the King's Wood. They were deathly close to the outer walls of King's Landing, but thankfully far enough away that no one would notice a young women and her white horse. Arya may have been dressed as a lowly peasant, but she was riding a purebred Bravosi horse and furthermore she was very much known to The Mad Queen and her forces.

"So Yoren," Arya stated, "What do you think is keeping everyone from passing across the border of the Stormlands?"

The horse shook his head, his mane going in all directions, and then he whinned. A laugh slip past Arya's lips, she couldn't remember the last time that she had laughed like that, before a memory of shooting arrows in the Winterfell courtyard, at the dismay of Bran who kept missing the target crossed her mind. She missed those days desperately.

"You know you're not much help Yoren?" Arya asked of the horse. The horse nodded. Well Arya thought, at least he was being honest with her. They'd been travelling for six weeks now and not once in all of that time, had she once been able to escape the words that Lord Selwyn had spoken to her, before she left Winterfell.

"_The Lord of the Stormlands and his people are loyal to the Dragon Wolf."_

Then why hadn't they heard from Gendry? Why had Bran said she needed to convince Gendry to join their cause, if he already belonged to it?

Nothing made sense to her anymore, because she was being told two stories by two people that she knew to trust. Arya hated the feeling that bubbled within her chest - dispair. By the Gods, did she miss Jon and his wise words, he always knew what to say to her, always knew how to help her get back on the right path. He was however the last person she could speak too, not only was he off trying to claim the throne from The Mad Queen. He also refused to tell anyone where he and his men had made their camp and even Bran seemed resolute in not telling anyone either. That's if Bran, does, actually have the ability to see everything that ever happened in the history of Westeros and the Free Cities. She hoped she'd also find answers about her brother, within the borders of the Stormlands too.

—

Arya didn't get much sleep during the night, the wind and the noises it made within the trees, constantly spooked Yoren and she had spent much of the night calming the horse. She wasn't just going to abandon him to the storm, the two of them had already gone through too much together, for her to allow herself too do that. However, there had been times in recent weeks, when she had thought to give him to one of the many farmers she had met since she'd passed into the South. It's not that she wanted to give him up, it was that he was a white horse and she had to sneak into the Stormlands and that would never be easy on a white Braavosi horse. He was more noticeable than any other horse in the Seven Kingdoms.

Today she finally planned to cross into the Stormlands, at any cost. Before she mounted Yoren she removed Needle from her weapons belt and strapped it to the side of Yoren's saddle. Arya had long expected that today of all days, she would need to draw her sword.

Under normal circumstances she would have entered the Stormlands by crossing over Wendwater Bridge, but she knew it wasn't safe. Instead she and Yoren would head South-West along the Wendwater River, and cross it near the spring, where the River started. It took her from where she needed to go, but she needed to stay as far away from the Kingsroad, as possible. Whatever the forces were, that were preventing others from entering into the Stormlands, they were going to be most likely positioned or prominent along the Kingsroad.

—

As Arya and Yoren travelled along the Northern side of the Wendwater River, the storm of the previous night blew back in, snow falling rapidly around them. A gust was causing the river to move quickly. Yet there was silence, the trees made no sounds, the only sound the crunch of the snow under Yoren's hooves and the fast flows of the water in the Wendwater.

"What's the matter boy?" Arya asked, when Yoren stopped once again. If only he could answer her, Arya thought her temper growing short. She was a private person, who was quite happy keeping to herself and not talking to others, but of late she'd gotten sick of not having another human being to talk to.

Yoren made no indication that he'd heard or even listened to her. Instead his ears had pricked up yet again and this time Arya noticed it happen, the first time all day, and it had happened many times since they'd started journeying along bends and curves of the Wendwater. Arya calmed her mind and ushered up all that the Jaqen H'ghar and the House of Black and White had taught her about silence and she listened intently to all that surrounded her.

At first she could only hear the silent natural sounds she had heard before; the crushing of the river against it's banks. The more she listened, the more she heard. Soon she could hear the sound of branches bashing against each other and even the sound of squirrels scampering home to their hollows to escape the storm. She had to sit and listen for a long time, before she heard what she expected is what Yoren had heard too. It was the sound of men moving through the thick leafless trees of Kingswood, on the Stormlands side of the River. Any other person would not have heard them because they were so silent, so absent.

Arya turned Yoren towards the trees, and the horse willingly went, he vehemently wanted to be nowhere near the Wendwater. This was it Arya supposed, whoever or whatever those men were on the rivers otherside were what we're stopping people from entering the Stormlands and Yoren wasn't going to have anything of them. Once Arya and Yoren were deep enough inside the woods, that she could no longer see the river she dismounted. She took Needle from Yoren's saddle and strapped it back onto her waist and then proceeded to take Yoren's saddle and bridle off of him. She discarded them in the fresh snows on the ground. Yoren wouldn't needed them anymore.

She held the horses muzzle between her cold hands, his warmth making them flush, and she rested her head against his. The horse whinned.

"This is it" Arya said, tears slipping from her eyes. If Yoren wouldn't go anywhere near the Wendwater, she wasn't going to force him to cross it. He would wander a while, but eventually, she was sure, he would find a kind farmer to take him in. Gods knows, the farmers needed any help they could get to sow their fields and provide for their families during this harsh winter. Yoren could help. She didn't like to say goodbye to him, but the next part of her journey she needed to take alone.

—

Yoren followed Arya dutifully back to the edge of the trees near the Wendwater, clearly realising then why she had unsaddled him, that she was setting him free and not forcing him to cross the water. He whinned softly and Arya brushed her fingers through his mane one last time, before heading towards the waters edge. There was only one thing for it, she needed to swim across.

The ice water would have killed any Southern man, but that was not Arya, she was a Northern, a stark at that. Ice ran through her veins, it gave her life, it would not strip it from her.

Moving across the Wendwater was difficult, Arya had to swim against the rivers natural current. The two forces, Arya and the waters of the Wendwater, battle for dominance. The waters threw Arya in every direction possible and she struggled to remain above the water, her waterlogged clothing dragging her down. It was then that a memory of Jon flashed before her, it wasn't even her memory, it was his. After his return to Winterfell there had been scare opportunities for the two of them to speak, to learn about each other's journies throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and in her case abroad. When they did, he told of what had happened when he, Gendry and others had gone beyond the wall to capture a Wight. Jon told her of falling under the icy waters after battling the Wights and how their Uncle Benjen, somehow still living, had pulled him from it. He told her though, that the water was not cold to him as he battled against it, that that was their gift as Starks, to always battle and never give in when the cold tries to claim them. For they are ice themselves, they control it, they battle it, they conquer it. It was with Jon's words, that Arya was able to find the strength she needed to push herself through the final yards of water to the Southern banks of the Wendwater.

After pulling herself from the depths of the Wendwater, Arya lay in the freezing snow of the riverbank, trying to muster any strength that she could. Arya pulled herself to her feet, though she felt that at any moment her defeated body would claim her and force her down, but she would not have it.

Arya managed to turn her head enough to see the Northern bank of the Wendwater, Yoren was gone from it's bank, the journey forward now was hers alone.

—

The trees of the King's wood were as dense on the Southern side of the Wendwater, as they had been on its Northern side. The snow was still falling heavily, and even if her body didn't feel so defeated and the need to sleep constantly lurking, Arya would still have had difficulty seeing in front of her. But in the end it didn't matter, her body gave in on her and she fell into the blanket of snow at her feet.

Her body and mind were so defeated that she gave into it. So gone to the world, she did not hear the footsteps of the men she'd heard earlier approach her, or the words that they spoke.

"How'd she make it past the Witches of the Water?"

"For fucks sake Connington that doesn't matter now. Seven hells, she's freezing, quick get her on a horse."

"Head for Felwood, she needs to be seen by a Maester immediately."


	3. The Silveraxe

Winter sunlight streamed into the small Fellwood bedchamber, shining through the cracks that the heavy curtains did not cover. The young women asleep in the bed did not wake, her weakened body still holding her back from the waking world.

The arrival of this young women at Fellwood, bought with it many whispers. The people of Fellwood could not believe that someone, a girl at that, had survived entry into the Kingdom of the Stormlands. The Witches of the Water, the Marsh Magis and the Sea Sirens had kept the Stormlanders locked in their land for months. The only person who had been able to escape, had been Lord Selwyn Tarth. Lord Tarth had been commanded by his Leige Lord Gendry Baratheon to spread the rumour that the Stormlanders had locked down their borders to outsiders and were not loyal to either The Mad Queen or King Aegon Targaryen-Stark.

Lord Baratheon had already lost men, and women, to the unforgivable and undectable forces that held the Stormlands captive and the Gods forbid, he would not allow the people of any of the other Kingdoms fall victim to what his had.

Yet this girl, of all people, had made it past the Witches of the Water. Her story perplexed everyone at Fellwood, most of all it's Lord, who was seated in the small bedchamber of his seat. Lord Coren Fell, better known as the Silveraxe, had kept vigil over the young women, since the moment his men-at-arms had ridden into Fellwood with her body.

The Silveraxe had watched on in wonder, as Maester Isadore worked tirelessly for two days, to keep the girl from slipping from this world. It had now been six days she the girl had arrived at Fellwood, and though Maester Isadore had been able to warm the girls body and steady her breathing, she had yet to wake. The Silveraxe had taken it upon himself to be with her at all times, to make sure that the fire stayed stoked, to make sure that the girl did not succumb to sickness.

Maester Isadore had pleaded with the Silveraxe to sleep, warning that him if he didn't he too would likely become ill, but he was determined to be by the girls bedside when she awoke. He wanted to find out who she was and to hear her story. To make it past the Witches of the Water, she had to indeed by someone special.

—

"Aye, lass, you're finally awake" a gruff voice declared. Arya's eyes fluttered against the warm glow of the fire, that illuminated the bedchamber. Her head was sore and her body ached, it was not the ache she experienced after she was stabbed by the Waif, the pain she was currently experiencing was still agonising.

Arya opened her mouth, tried to move her body, but the gruff voice quieted her, "Don't speak lass or move for that matter, not yet, you're still very weak. I'd hate to have to tell my Maester, that all his work to heal you, was wasted."

The mention of a Maester calmed Arya's mind, where ever she was, she was safe. As much as anyone could be in the Seven Kingdoms these days. She was in the house of Noble Family, which one she was not sure, but she knew, that besides the Wall and the Citadel, Maesters weren't often found elsewhere.

The events at the Wendwater River started to come back to Arya, but because her head was sore, the memories were blurry, disordered. She remembered jumping into water and struggling against its harsh current, surprised that her God of Death, hadn't taken her from the world then and there. She remember struggling up the river bank, but she couldn't remember anything past that.

"My men were surprised that they found you, so close to the river, freezing and soaking wet. It's a miracle that you came out alive, that's not something any other person can say, at least no other person that we know of."

Arya must have looked as confused as she felt, was the man telling her that it was the Wendwater River, that was keeping people from entering into the Stormlands?

"You've heard then that people haven't been able to come or go from the Stormlands. Looks like old Selwyn succeed then, in spreading the rumour that we closed our borders to outsiders. Still, doesn't explain how you got in does it? You look surprised that you're still alive too. Though I'm sure our definitions of why are varsely different."

Arya coughed and the man rose from where he was sitting on the outside of the bedchamber near the fireplace. Standing in the light, Arya could finally see the man for who he was. He could not have been much older than what her Father would have been now; grey hairs, were starting to replace black. He was dressed like that of a Lord. He wore a black brigandine, not unlike the one that Jon often wore and fine furs. On his chest he bore a breastplate with a sigil, but the light from the fire wasn't enough for her to make it out in her weakened state.

"Now, I can't be sure what Selwyn said, and I expect by the time it reached you it had chopped and changed."

The man didn't have a clue who she was that was clear. He didn't know that she had heard the story from the lips of Lord Selwyn Tarth himself. That she knew that the Stormlands were still loyal to her brother. That she was the lawful half-sister of the King.

"What I will say though is that he was lying and on purpose too. On the orders of our Liege Lord himself nonetheless."

Gendry was behind this Arya thought? Why would Gendry spread such a rumour? Unless he'd done it to protect his people and those of the other Kingdoms. Yes, that sounded like something that Gendry would do. He was selfless that way. By the Gods did it hurt when she thought about how protective and trustworthy he was. Her heart ached for what she had done to him that night at Winterfell, so long ago now.

"We didn't close down our borders, no more than we're the reason people can't get in. After the Mad Queen razed King's Landing, Lord Baratheon declared we were no longer to be aligned with her. Called her a tyrant, big word for a lad raised in Flea Bottom. Anyway, it wasn't long after that that people kept disappearing at the borders. Along the Wendwater, in the Dornish Marshes. No one could figure it out. In the end, Lord Baratheon ordered that we keep guard over the borders as secretly as possible, the Maesters helped the men hide themselves, to become one with nature and just wait for an unsuspecting soul to try and cross into the Stormlands. Lord Baratheon made us tell the common folk to stay well away from the borders, but there was nothing we could do to keep people from crossing in."

The man paused, clearly aware that he had given Arya too much information to digest all at once.

"Make sense so far lass?"

Arya nodded weakly, careful not to strain her stiff neck.

"Right, anyway, it took a few weeks before we noticed anything definitive. They're fast you see, whatever it is that is taking those trying to cross the borders. We have many names for them: Witches of the Water, Marsh Magis, Sea Sirens. When they take someone they pull them down, be it into the river depths, the marshes or the ocean. We don't know why they do it, who sent them or how to fight them. Lord Baratheon fought in the Battle of Ice and Fire and he said this is nothing like what he saw there. Those things he talked about could be stopped, they knew how to stop them. These ones it's maddening."

Arya sucked in air, "How did Lord Tarth get out?"

"They escaped as the Sirens arrived, it was a blo-" the man stopped mid-sentence. "Lass what did you say?"

Arya wasn't even sure what she'd said, her head was spinning and she felt like she was going to pass out.

—

Arya could hear the sound of whispers outside of her bedchamber, when her body bought her back to consciousness again. She opened her eyes slowly, taking in the room. The bedchamber she thought, so everything swirling around in her head about Witches of the Water, wasn't some crazy dream. It was true.

She pushed back the furs that covered her, and carefully lifted herself out of the bed. She finally felt the full intensity of how weak and in pain her body was. She looked around for something to wrap herself in, finding a fur cloak hanging over the chair by the fire; clearly it had been left there for her benefit. Given her weak state she struggled to pull it on, but in the end she managed.

The door was heavy, and like with cloak, she struggled to open it. Once she did though she fell forwards, so fast that she didn't notice when calloused hands caught her.

"Aye lass, good morning, we were just talking about you" it was the man from before. "It's good to see you awake, but I would have thought a smart person would stay in bed, especially in your condition."

Arya smiled meekly, as the man helped her back to the bedchamber "I'm not your average person."

"Lass, it's good to hear you voice and aye, you're right, you are not an average person."

The person accompany the man, was a Maester, likely the one the man had previously spoken of. It was he who helped Arya back into bed.

"Now, lass," the first man started. "I will have a kitchen maid bring you up something to eat, and after that we can either join you here and we can speak, or you can join us in Maester Isadore's library."

"The library" Arya coughed.

"As you wish lass" the man and the Maester smiled and went to depart.

"Wait," Arya called after them.

The two man turned to face her, "Where am I and who are you?

"I didn't tell you? I'm sorry lass, I must have gotten to caught up in the fact that you made it into the Stormlands alive. I am Lord Coren Fell and you are at Fellwood. Welcome."

The Silveraxe. Former loyalist to House Targareyn during Robert's Rebellion, captured by the later and pledged to him after a time in captivity. A hero of the Baratheon cause upon the Trident

* * *

_Thank you everyone for your likes, follows and reviews! I'm so happy that you're enjoying the journey. Look out for the next chapter - 'Queen of the Dawn' and please review! K.x_


	4. Queen of the Dawn

"Mi'lady, I insist you wear a dress, it's just unlady like" the serving girl insisted as Arya opened the door of her bedchamber, causing sunlight from the passageway window to flood into the room. The girl moved after Arya, still carrying that the dress that Arya was refusing to wear, despite he girls insistence.

Arya was thankful for the Silveraxe. Much like her Father, he saw in her, that she did not wish to be dressed in dresses, or corsets, or anything associated with that of a women, be she highborn or low born. He'd seen to having clothing, that he thought Arya would deem appropriate, sent to her bedchamber. Of course, that was before the unassailable maid Relle appeared in the bedchamber. No matter what Arya said to her, she insisted that Arya wear the dress she had bought up for her. The girl did not care that no one had instructed her to bring Arya a dress to wear, she was seemingly only concerned that Arya wear it.

Arya turned on the heel of her boot outside of her bedchamber to face Relle, causing a young Felwood boy who was making his way through the chamber to crash into her. "Why do you insist that I wear the dress?" Arya asked Relle again.

"Because it's not appropriate for a young women to not wear one. When I heard that Lord Fell had sent you breeches and tunics to wear... it's just not right."

"What's not right is you telling me what to do," Arya began, having had about enough of Relle as she could handle.

"You are no better than me girl," Relle quipped. "The only difference is that you made it into the Stormlands, when no one else could. I don't think that you makes me anymore superior than me."

If only she knew Arya thought with smite. If only. "That is your opinion, but I have my own, and whilst you may not agree with it, I'm not going to be wearing that dress." Arya made the words as sharp and tactful as she could, before turning from Relle and walking away.

Arya had not made it very far down the passageway when she heard a young's boy voice behind her. "Please wait, you don't know where your going, you're going the wrong way!"

"And how would you know where I'm even going?" Arya asked the voice of the young boy, whilst refusing to turn around in case Relle was still there glaring at her.

—

The young boy who had called out after Arya, turned out to be the same one that had walked into her, as she had come out of her bedchamber.

He explained to her, that he had been sent up by Maester Isadore to escort her to his library. Arya insisted that she could find her own way, even though she had never been to Felwood before in her life. It only caused the young boy to remark, that even those who had lived at Felwood there entire lives, sometimes still had difficulty finding the Library of the Maester.

"And how to do you know how to find it so easily then?" Arya asked the boy quizzically, as they walked.

The young boy blushed, "I spend a lot of time there, Maester Isadore lets me hide in there from my Mother."

The way the boy talked about Maester Isadore, reminded her of Maester Luwin, in that he was kind and gentle man, who was willing to allow the children under his care to hide and take refuge in his library. More than once Maester Luwin had allowed Arya to take refuge in the Winterfell Library, knowing that she'd much rather read about the Warrior Queen Nymeria and Visenya Targareyn, than to learn embroidery and manners with Septa Mordane.

"You don't like your mother?" Arya asked the boy.

"No, I love her, it's just, sometimes, she tells me not to reach above my station" the boy answered, a clear sulk in his words.

"My mother used to tell me I needed to be a lady, so I became a warrior" Arya answered.

"A warrior, really?" the boy asked.

"Really" Arya replied. "I loved my mother too, but you need to follow your heart and become the person you want to be. Your mother may not be happy about it, but she'll love you all the same."

The young boy began to smile and did not stop.

—

The door of the Maesters Library, showed the profound loyalty that the Felwood Maesters seemed to hold towards House Fell. In the centre of the door was the sigil of House Fell, a crescent moon on black, with green below and a line of spruce trees intersecting the middle. Surrounding the sigil of House Fell, was the interlocking chains that signified the order of the Masters.

The young boy knocked on the door, a voice quickly answered for whoever was there to enter and the young boy quickly pushed open the door for himself and Arya.

Arya was amazed by the scale of the Maesters Library, it seemed to stretch on and on, but thankfully the Silveraxe and Maester Isadore were seated very near the library door.

"I should have known it was you Luc, that Maester Isadore sent to fetch our lovely guest" the Silveraxe laughed, clearly the boy, Luc, was know to him. "I think we should just induct you into the Order of the Maesters now and be done with it."

The boy blushed at the Silveraxe's comments, "I've changed my mind, I want to be a Knight of the Kingsguard."

The Silveraxe shook his head with his smile, "Well go join Morrigen and Connington in the courtyard, I'm sure they'll train you up. Now off you run, you'll surely miss them if you dally."

The boy bowed to the Silveraxe and Maester Isadore, and turned to leave before the Maester called him back. "Wait, Luc" he said with a soft smile, "don't forget your book."

The boys eyes opened wide with wonder; he hurried over to the Maester who handed him a book, the boy took it with a gleeful smile and word of thanks to the Maester, before he essentially skipped off out of the library.

"Maester Isadore, you do know he won't go join Morrigen and Connington now?" the Silveraxe asked of the Maester.

"He will eventually, but you know as well as I do, how desperate he has been to read that book."

"He's probably running off to the Crowery as we speak to read the thing, seeing as we're here" the Silveraxe replied to Maester Isadore.

Whatever that book was, Arya thought, it was clearly important to the young boy, because the Silveraxe could only nod in agreement with his Maester.

"So you've met young Luc then," the Silveraxe said, getting up from his chair to greet Arya.

"I'm Arya of House Stark."

—

"Pardon?" the Silveraxe answered clearly stunned by Arya's revelation.

"That's how I know Lord Selwyn Tarth."

The Silveraxe and Maester Isadore looked at each other with wonder, clearly surprised that Arya had retained what the Silveraxe had asked of her before she'd passed out, for the second time, in just as many days.

"Tell me something then lass, that only Selwyn Tarth could tell you" the Silveraxe replied. "Maybe then I will believe that you are who you say."

It was then that Lord Tarth's final words to her finally made sense, it was an oath to prove fealty to Jon, and clearly there were very few people in the Stormlands privy to those words. Something was afoot in the Stormlands, beside Witches and Magis and Sirens, and whatever it was Gendry had chosen an inner circle and clearly the Silveraxe belonged to it.

"The Lord of the Stormlands and his people are loyal to the Dragon Wolf."

The Silveraxe sat down, nearly as quickly as he had just stood to greet Arya.

"That only shows I've spoken with Lord Tarth though" Arya said to the flustered Silveraxe. "You should ask me something that only the daughter of Eddard Stark would know."

"I don't need to" the Silveraxe answered. "Lord Baratheon chose an inner circle of very few people, people written on a list by Lord Hand Davos Seaworth himself. Myself, Lord Tarth, Lord Peasbury, Lord Morrigen and Lord Estermont. If you ask me Eldon Estermont is bloody lucky he was given such an honour. Anyway, the words Old Selwyn spoke to you are only known to the named Stormlords and their Maesters. When Old Selwyn managed to escape, he was under instructions from Lord Baratheon to only speak those words to Arya Stark, should she ever decided to come to the Stormlands."

"Whatsmore," the Silveraxe smiled gently. "You look exactly like your Aunt Lyanna, or at least exactly how Robert would describe her to us, as we sat in his prison cells. So I know you are who you say."

"Why not worn me about the Witches, Magis and Sirens?" Arya asked not listening to the Silveraxe's anecdote, confused that Gendry was so prepared to let her lose her life should she come to the Stormlands.

"That's something you'd have to ask Lord Baratheon, whatever his reasons were, it doesn't matter now anyway, you made it here alive."

Maybe it didn't matter to the Silveraxe, but it sure did matter to her. Arya wasn't given a chance to voice her distaste at Gendry's choice not to forwarn her about the dangers of the Stormlands, to either the Silveraxe or Maester Isadore, because the library door swung open with a crash as the young boy Luc hurtled in.

—

The Silveraxe jumped up from his seat, "By the Seven Gods Luc Storm, what have I told you about knocking on doors, before entering a room."

Luc Storm? Arya thought, well that answered a lot about why the boy had been taken under the wing of the Silveraxe and Maester Isadore; why he had said his mother often told him, that he was reaching above his station.

"Uncle Coren," the boy said flustered. "I'm sorry. It's just," the boy took a deep breathe, before continuing to speak quickly "I was in the Crowery reading my book, and then a Raven arrived and it was sealed with the sigil of House Baratheon and I had to come tell you."

"Well then Luc, what did it say? I know you well enough to know you opened it" the Silveraxe asked his teeth gritted, clearly not wanting to lash out at his nephew.

"Lord Baratheon received your Raven, he's coming to Felwood to meet her" Luc said, pointing to Arya. "Uncle why is Lord Baratheon coming to meet her?"

The Silveraxe and Maester Isadore looked at each other, "Maester Isadore, you're the one who's been reading him all the messages that arrive, you might as well tell him."

Maester Isadore looked to the young boy, "Luc, I'd like you to meet Arya Stark, the Queen of the Dawn."

Luc's mouth hung open in shock and Arya felt within herself, very much what the boy looked. The Queen of the Dawn? She'd never known herself to be known by that name. The Hero of Winterfell yes, but not the Queen of the Dawn. Why was she known by that name here in the Stormlands and why did it clearly mean so much to young Luc Storm?

* * *

_I'm sorry this chapter has taken it's time, I just haven't had the time to write._

_Do you trust Relle? Is Gendry hiding something from Arya? Why is Luc Storm so fascinated by the so-called Queen of the Dawn?_

_Please Review!_

_Look out for the next chapter - 'The Wolf and the Stag'_

_K.x_


	5. The Wolf and the Stag

Luc Storm didn't stray far from Arya, in the days after he found out that she was, the so-called _Queen of the Dawn_. It was clear the boy was quite taken with her, always asking her questions about the North, about Braavos, about the Battle of Ice and Fire and what happened that dreadful day in King's Landing. Unfortunately though for Arya, because she didn't want to discuss it, Luc was most curious about how she knew Lord Baratheon.

"Lord Baratheon was going to take the Black?" Luc's eyes sparked with wonder, as they did every time the Wall or the Night's Watch were mentioned.

"Yes, but it wasn't his choice. He was running away from King Joffrey, who wanted to kill him" Arya replied, as she flicked through the book the boy had been so enthralled by days earlier. The book it turned out was about the Lord Commanders of the Knight's Watch, kept for centuries by the Maesters of Felwood. It dated back to a time when another Bastard of Felwood, had become the first Lord Commander to hail from the Stormlands.

"But wasn't King Joffrey his brother, they had the same Father didn't they?"

Arya came and sat next to the boy, who was sitting at one of the big wooden tables in Maester Isadore's library.

Arya wasn't surprised the boy did not know the truth of Joffrey's paternity. When the Battle of the Blackwater had occurred, Luc had only been but two years old; now aged nine, he'd still saw great battles as majestic and marvellous, events to gain honour, not as political struggles.

She shook her head, fighting desperately to keep her temper at bay as she spoke, "No, Lord Baratheon and King Joffrey did not have the same Father. Everyone just thought they did. King Joffrey was like Lord Baratheon, he was born a bastard too. Lord Baratheon though was the bastard of King Robert, so unlike King Joffrey, he had a better claim to the Iron Throne and King Joffrey didn't like that."

"Who was King Joffrey's father then?" Luc asked.

Arya smirked, "Ask me that again in a few years. I'll say this though he was more a bastard than Lord Baratheon, or King Aegon or even you."

The boys eyes lit up again, "More a bastard than me?"

"Yes" Arya answered with a chuckle, glad that the Silveraxe had raised his great-nephew to see that being a Bastard did not have to be a mark of shame, but could be a badge of honour if he wanted it to be. Maybe one day, when she next saw Jon, she could convince him to legitimise the boy.

The thought moved her mind towards Lord Baratheon as she knew him, as Gendry. She'd always thought no one faced more struggles with being a bastard than Jon, but that was before she knew the truth about Gendry. The truth of Gendry's paternity, had placed him at the heart of a game of cat and mouse during the War of the Five Kings and though none of them had known it, he was the piece on the chessboard that could cause everything to come crashing down. Well, that was true enough, until she found out that Jon was the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and her Aunt Lyanna. How'd she end up having two of the most critical political pawns in Westeros, as part of her life, she did not know.

"Arya," Luc began, drawing Arya from her thoughts of Gendry and her brother, "did you love Lord Baratheon?"

The boys words stumped her, bringing up emotions she'd pushed down so long ago, emotions she'd been desperate to escape. In the aftermath of the Battle of Ice and Fire, when Gendry had gotten down on one knee, was not something she liked thinking about. She'd broken him that night, seen his Baratheon blue eyes shatter with dispair and in that moment, she feared she'd broken herself too. He'd become the only person she could truly trust, truly considered her family and she'd broken him, and she didn't know anymore if she'd done the right thing.

She didn't get a chance to reply to Luc's question, Maester Isadore walked into the library, his chains clanking around his neck.

"Arya, Luc," the Maester had been quick to catch on to the fact that Arya did not like to be addressed by title. "The advanced party from Storm's End have arrived, Lord Baratheon will be here within the hour."

Maester Isadore departed as quickly as he had come, and Luc asked Arya another question about Gendry, clearly having forgotten the one he'd just asked her.

"My Uncle wants me there with him when Lord Baratheon arrives. He wants us to greet him together" the boy paused looking ashamed. "Would Lord Baratheon judge me because I'm still a bastard and he's not?"

Arya came and knelt in front of Luc, taking his hand. "Lord Baratheon can be bullheaded about the importance of titles sometimes," remembering back to when Gendry had proposed to her, "but he would never judge anyone, but King Joffrey, for being a Bastard."

—

Luc scurried across the snowy Felwood courtyard, Arya's strange words to tell his Uncle Coren, ringing in his head. After Maester Isadore had left the library, Arya had informed Luc, that she would not be joining him to greet Lord Baratheon when he arrived. That puzzled Luc, he'd learnt so much about the friendship between the two - travelling along the Kingsroad with the Knights Watch recruiter, being taken captive at Harrenhall, fighting the dead together at Winterfell - he couldn't understand why she didn't want to see someone, who'd she'd described as her family.

The boy came up behind his Uncle and tugged on his cloak, his Uncle didn't budge still speaking with Morrigen, his Master-At-Arms. The boy tugged again, and again, until he finally captured his Uncle's attention.

"Luc, what do you want?" his Uncle asked, clearly frustrated at his nephews inability to wait for him to finish speaking with Morrigen.

"It's Arya, she said she won't come down to meet Lord Baratheon, but she wants you to tell him something for her."

—

All these months later Gendry still didn't feel like he was a Lord of a Great House, instead he often felt that he was still a master smithy on the Street of Steel in King's Landing. Some mornings he woke up thinking that's where he was, until he realised that his bed was soft and when he opened his eyes, he was in the

Lord's Chambers of Storm's End. Though nothing reminded him more of where he was, compared to where he felt he should be, then when he was mounted upon his horse, his men-at-arms surrounding him, the banners of house Baratheon fluttering in the wind, as he and his party moved through through the Stormlands, headed for the House of one of his most loyal Bannerman.

That was truly what Lord Coren Fell was, one of the most loyal Bannerman, that he had. When the Raven had arrived from Fellwood, stating that a young girl had made it into the Stormlands, he wasn't going to think it was a lie. One of the last things Davos had said to him, was that if he ever had cause to distrust one of his Lords, it would be wrong to think it would be Lord Fell. Davos had told him about what Lord Fell had experienced during Robert's Rebellion and how no man would dare betray the family, of the one who had spared his life.

As the Baratheon party approached the gates of Felwood, Gendry took a moment to shake the snow from his cloak, uncovering the dark golden stag upon black. The first cloak presented to him to wear, as Lord of Storms End was gold with a big black stag embroidered upon it. It had taken Gendry everything in him to not accept it and ask for a cloak that didn't shout his identity so loudly to the world. The second cloak, the one he wore now, still made clear that he was a Baratheon, but the golden stag upon it was darker, more subtle, showed his bastard heritage, which Gendry much preferred. He was never going to lie about the fact that he was born a bastard and especially not to his own people.

The journey to Felwood had been snowy; Gendry did not think he had seen such amounts of snow, since al those months ago when he had departed the North to take up his new seat as Lord of Storm's End. The current snowfall had blanketed the Stormlands and it reminded Gendry of everything he wished to forget - of Arya, of her embrace, of her smile and the feelings that even now, he still held for her. He'd often lie awake because he could not escape her, no matter how he tried, he felt that he would forever be haunted by Arya of House Stark. The snow also forced him to remember that he was once again being held at captive by magic, the Witches, the Magis and Sirens the most recent in his longline of suffering. So, it was unsuprising that he was fascinated by the girl who had made it passed them, magic clearly fearing her, because she was untouched by it, and because of that he desperately wanted to meet her.

—

The Silveraxe placed his hand gently on his nephew's shoulder, to settle him, as the Baratheon Party approached through the Felwood gates. The Silveraxe watched Lord Baratheon carefully as he approached them upon his horse. The lad now looked more like the Lord of a Great House should, but by the way he held himself he still looked out of his depth, but he hid it well enough.

"Welcome back to Felwood, Lord Baratheon" the Silveraxe stated, stepping forward to greet Lord Baratheon as he dismounted his horse.

The lad smiled, "It's good to be back, I've always felt welcome at Felwood, if only the circumstances were better."

"If only," the Silveraxe answered. "I would like to introduce my nephew, Luc Storm, I believe the two of you didn't meet the last time you were here my Lord."

"Gendry, please" the lad said, clearly exasparated by his title. "And no I didn't not get to meet your nephew."

The lad knealt down in front of Luc and extended his hand to the boy, "It's a pleasure to meet you Luc."

Luc's eyes widened surprised that the Lord had acknowledged him, despite the fact that he was a Bastard. Arya had been right, Luc thought, Lord Baratheon seemed genuinely pleased to meet him and did not show him the disregard that he was so often show, by the other Stormlords.

"It's nice to meet you Gendry," Luc answered, taking Lord Baratheon's cue to call him by his given name.

Lord Baratheon rose and ruffled Luc hair, as he turned back to the Silveraxe.

"The girl who made it in, where is she?" Gendry asked looking around.

"She's in Maester Isadore's library," the Silveraxe paused. "Whatever her reason, she showed no interest in meeting you here with us. She asks if you can meet her there, Luc will take you."

Gendry's eyebrows rose in confusion. Most girls wanted to meet him, to fawn over him. He was surprised this one didn't.

The Silveraxe had clearly noticed Gendry's confusion, "She also told me to tell you, to just meet her there and not be so bullheaded about it. I apologise for the brashness of the words, they're hers not mine."

"Bullheaded?" Gendry answered. "Where's the library?"

—

Arya was hidden behind a bookshelf when she heard Maester Isadore's library door creak open, from where she was she could hear a familiar voice thank Luc for bringing him here. The sound of the voice sent shivers throught her spine, something she had not felt since that night in the Winterfell grain stores.

The footfalls of the familiar voice were heavy on the library's oak floors.

"I spent the trip here fascinated by a girl, who it turns out doesn't exist. I thought the girl who made it into the Stormlands was someone never touched by magic, so virgin to it, that the Witches had not noticed when she passed."

Arya didn't answer, only causing the voice to contine.

"Clearly that was a load of horse crap."

Arya placed her hands over mouth, to prevent herself from laughing, though she knew it was Gendry speaking, she still never thought she'd here those words come from the mouth of a Great Westerosi Lord.

"The girl who made it through has been touched by magic more than anyone else, on this goddamn continent. She's even killed it."

It was then Arya chose to step out from the bookshelf, that she had hidden herself behind. Gendry wasn't completely right, yes she'd killed magic, but she was also a Faceless Man, which meant to some degree she was herself magic.

The torches in the library were bright, meaning Arya and Gendry were immediately able to see each other for who they were.

"I didn't think we'd ever see each other again," Gendry said, dropping his eyes from Arya, so that he was looking at his feet.

"I think you mean, you hoped we wouldn't see each other again. I wouldn't blame you if that was the case."

Gendry looked up at her, his eyes painstakingly blue, "You probably think I wanted you to explain to me, why you said no. If I were in your shoes, that's what I would be thinking."

"You're not in my shoes though, and I'm not in yours," Arya answer, pausing long enough to choose her next words carefully. "I don't regret what I said that night Gendry, that isn't me. What I didn't say though is probably something you need to hear. I didn't say, that I thought I would die in King's Landing. If I let us be what you wanted, you wouldn't have wanted to to go, but I would have gone anyway. Better you mourned your friend, not your intended."

"Arya," his voice rang true of that night in the grainstore and Arya felt like she'd been punched in the guts once again.

"Whatever you're going to say don't" Arya stated, just after Gendry spoke her name. If he said that they were each other's family, it would break her more than she had already been broken by the Wars of Westeros.

—

Relle had watched with delight, the arrival of Lord Baratheon of Storm's End to Felwood. He looked to her everything that the son of a King, even a bastard one at that, should look like. He looked refined, dignified and his blue eyes and cropped black hair, made him look ever so handsome.

As she helped a fellow chambermaid set the guest bedchamber for Lord Baratheon, she could not help bout gush over him.

"He's a Lord, Relle" the other maid said quietly. "He'd never see you as anything more than a maid."

"The former Lord of Felwood didn't see you like that," Relle retorted, jumping down the poor maids throat.

"What the former Lord did to me, was vile and cruel" the maid answered, her body began to shake at just the thought of what he had done to her. The way he had groped her, touched her, raped her, when she had not seen even sixteen namedays. It had taken months for the current Lord to coax it out of her what his nephew had done to her, but by that point it was too late, she was with child.

"What he gave you though, he gave you a position, power."

"Do you see either of those things, I don't" the maid answered Relle, trying not to think of what had happened all that time ago.

"He gave you a son."

"My son is a bastard Relle, nothing more than that."

"Then why does he go around like he owns the place Tralla?" Relle asked.

Tralla didn't answer, what Luc did was his choice. The two knew they loved each other and even if she didn't agree with Luc about his position ion society, she still wanted him to follow his path, she was his Mother and she would not stop him. No matter her own disinclination to power.

"Whatever," Relle stated. "I want more than you got and by the Gods, I will find a way to get it, especially if I can get it from Lord Baratheon."

Tralla bowed her head as she picked up her basket and left the room, whispering to herself, "be it on your own head."

* * *

_Do you have a favourite character or least favourite character?_

_What do you think is in store for Gendry and Arya?_

_Please Review! The love inspires me and gives me a reason to keep writing._

_K.x_


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